Assassin's Creed
by Kimura Yumi
Summary: Ja'far was living in an ordinary life with Sinbad at the royal palace of Sindria, when he suddenly gets strange dreams, or are they visions of the future? Soon enough, he is badly torn between two choices; to kill Sinbad, or to sacrifice himself. As things progresses, what the future holds eventually becomes extremely unpleasant. Will they get a happy ending? Or a tragic funeral?


**_Konnichiwa_! A multi-chapter Magi fanfic this time!**

**This is a fanfiction inspired by Ja'far's past as an assassin, and a picture in which he was badly tortured by some anonymous person. Since some of you know my love of writing tragic stories... ^sniffle* NEVER MIND ME I'M JUST GONNA START LOL.**

**Again, something new! I might be sticking to Magi for now as it is my latest addiction. Of course I'll be updating my Aomine x Kise's fanfiction _Golden Flower_ but yeah XD I hope you'll like this new story that I came up with! This story is going to last for about six chapters, I presume? It's gonna be a really short one. Then again, it takes a lot of time and effort to write this out, so reviews by you all will be awesome!:)**

**OH, AND BEFORE YOU READ: This fic is rated T because I removed the mature content (smex oxo) that was meant to be in this chapter for safety reasons. If you want to read the ORIGINAL story, with the mature content inside (the other parts of the story are untouched), you can find it on my livejournal at [ .com].**

* * *

**EDIT: **Fixed the link. Should be kimurayumi at livejournal [dotcom] Just take out the spaces and change the dots to appropriate fullstops. Livejournal link can also be found on my profile.

* * *

**Assassin's Creed**

(c) **Kimura Yumi**

**Summary:**

Ja'far was living in an ordinary life with Sinbad at the royal palace of Sindria, when he suddenly gets strange dreams, or are they visions of the future? Soon enough, he is badly torn between two choices; to kill Sinbad, or to sacrifice himself. As things progresses, what the future holds eventually becomes extremely unpleasant. Will they get a happy ending? Or a sad, tragic funeral?

**WARNING:**

This fanfiction is rated T for limes (activities that hint to youknowwhat), yaoi and eventual death. Ratings might change from T to M due to future content.

* * *

**This fanfiction is 100% original with the excluding of characters from the actual anime. Please do not report. Thanks for understanding!**

* * *

Chapter 1 : The Start of a Dream

* * *

The sloshing of water echoed out into the air as the advisor slowly got up from the springs.

As Ja'far began to dress himself, he stared at his naked reflection in a nearby enormous shard of glass. Unconsciously tracing the scars that marred almost every single part of his body, he shot a doubtful glance at his arms, bound tightly by scarlet red wires. Unwinding them, he could see the bruises that were marked on his skin as a result of being wrapped too tightly around his skin. Lightly gliding his fingers along the dark shadows, he slightly winced in agony as pain stung his nerves, sending chills up his spine.

He could remember every single detail of his past; of his brutal treatment, being beaten up everyday. His missions to assassinate people to make a living. It really made everything troubling, and confusing. Placing his household vessel on a nearby rock, he then gulped at his own reflection as he eyed the shadows glowing a slight red.

It hurt, it hurt like hell. But it wouldn't stop.

He wished he had not lived this kind of life, as an assassin. Even though as the king's first advisor in Sindria, every noble has their own tragic past, don't they? Even though as he flashes a smile at King Sinbad every single day, those terrorising horrors would silently haunt his sanity.

They would be chewing away at his soul in the form of scars.

To think that he, who was once part of an assassins troupe that went into hiding in the slums of Shamrashu, had tried to assassinate this kind and benevolent king who conquered seven dungeons and now ruled one of the mightiest countries in the world.

He flashed a smile of guilt at his own reflection. "I... To think I had tried to kill Sin..." he muttered to himself as tears erupted in his eyes. How could he have attempted to kill his beloved king? The standing fact of the past troubled his heart, which made him want to cry out loud.

That's right, he was in love with him.

After all the times they had spent together as king and advisor, it was natural that he would grow feelings that were more than ordinary mutual ones. What's more, Sinbad returned those feelings with identical ones. He could still distinctly remember the bone-crushing kiss that they had exchanged as an indirect confession of their love for each other. His lips curved upwards into a smile as the memory remained fresh and crisp in his mind.

While he was lost in his thoughts, he then suddenly felt warmth embrace his bare body as tanned arms wrapped itself around his waist. He knew who it was, even without turning around. Feeling cloth on his back, and smelling the all too familiar scent of royalty, he knew instinctively who it was.

"Sin," he started with a relaxed smile, "what are you doing here?"

"I should be the one asking that," the king replied in a husky tone that everyone would die for. Even Ja'far almost succumbs to it every time when he strikes up a normal conversation with him. Sinbad then nuzzled the advisor's slightly damp hair, causing a light tint of pink to decorate the latter's freckled cheeks. Looking down, he shyly traced the toned arm muscles of the dungeon capturer, feeling a tender tinge filling his soul.

He was the only one whom he could spill out all his worries to.

"Ja'far," Sinbad murmured as he raised a hand, turned the advisor's body around and pulled him close into his chest, giving the smaller male goosebumps. "Why aren't you dressed?"

"I... just took a shower here..." he replied quietly while indulging himself into the fragrance of the dungeon capturer. "And what are you doing here? To get dunked?" he smirked frivolously while lightly tugging at the silken cloth that covered the king's body.

"You wouldn't do that." As Ja'far curiously looked up to watch the purple-haired man's reaction, he was pulled into a kiss before he knew it. Sinbad's lips were always so soft yet so firm; they always give him the perfect kisses. It made Ja'far want to melt inside at the thought of the king actually willing accepting their relationship, not just as king and advisor, but lovers.

Slowly setting the advisor down into the springs and against a huge icy rock, the dungeon capturer then seated himself onto the bed of the waters, getting himself soaked down to the skin. He then pulled Ja'far down into the cool waters, almost submerging the whole of the latter's body. The ex-assassin then pulled at Sinbad's wet clothing as his face began to flush into crimson red. "S-S-Sin, what are you doing? You've got a meeting with the representative of the Kou Empire later! And here you are, making your clothes all wet!

"It has been postponed to tomorrow," the king replied nonchalantly. "Weren't you informed?" he added quizzically.

"... I bet that's an excuse."

"No, it's true," the amber-eyed male insisted. "Anyway," he stated as he shook the subject off, "I just want to spend time with my dear Ja'far~" This made the pale-skinned advisor want to punch him in the face for being so silly. Seriously!

"I thought you would start taking more responsibility of the kingdom," Ja'far muttered under his breath, but it was caught red-handed by Sinbad. The king raised an eyebrow as he grinned at the advisor.

"Then again, I'm the king, I should have my own freedom, no?"

"You've always been drinking! I thought I prohibited you from that!" Splashing water at the king indignantly yet playfully, he smiled. This is Sinbad they were talking about, after all. Ignoring his opposing cries, the king then leant down and captured the ex-assassin's lips with his own, bringing him into an ethereal-like state. Having always enjoyed his sensual kisses, Ja'far then pulled the king down towards him, the lust in him now spilling out uncontrollably. Sinbad was about to do _it_, before he snapped back to his senses.

Blushing furiously, the advisor then forcefully pushed the king away, stood up. He then pulled his clothes off from a hanging branch, slipped into them and clumsily scampered off, his face extremely flushed. A wet Sinbad then noticed Ja'far's household vessel being left alone on the rock, the ruby-coloured wires sprawled all over it, and its spear tips dipped into the waters. He grinned at the advisor and his cute antics.

Oh well.

* * *

Collapsing onto the soft cushiony covers of his bed, the advisor smushed his face into the cotton linen, deeply inhaling his personal body scent. Jeez, what was Sin thinking, doing that to him in the springs? He had his own dignity as the first advisor of Sindria's ruler as well! Honestly...

He was about to drift off into slumber when...

"Clack." The door opened with a soft click.

"You forgot this, Ja'far," Sinbad smiled as he stood by the doorway, the ex-assassin's household vessel Balalark Sei hanging from his clenched fist, wires wrapped around his ring-donned hand, metallic spear tips swinging about from side to side like two pendulums. Ja'far rubbed his bleary eyes as he sat up in exhaustion, trying to make out who it was.

"Sin," he groaned as he fell forward, lazily hanging his arms at the edge of the bed, "you could have just left it on the desk..."

"Nah, what if it gets stolen by some random wanderer?" He grinned.

"Says the king who had all his metal vessels stolen before."

"W-w-what!? Hey!" the amber-eyed male dissented, slightly taken aback by the smaller male's comment. "That's too much!"

"I'm just kidding." The bleached-skinned advisor chuckled as he watched Sinbad smile before walking to him. While turning his view upside down, he felt large tanned hands hold the sides of his face as the king knelt down on one knee and chastely pecked his lips for a brief moment, before pulling away. He then gingerly placed the wired household vessel onto a bedside table, and was about to stand up on his feet before exiting the room when he felt a small, almost unnoticeable tug from his robes.

Pivoting his head around, he could see Ja'far, face down, his bruised arm outstretched to grab a hold of his purple robes. As the dark-eyed male looked up, the dungeon capturer could see those almost ebony black orbs, shining brightly with longing and slight desperation. It was as if tears were going to fly out and make a flood.

"Sin," he pleaded," don't leave me alone..."

* * *

...

Feeling himself swirling into a world of darkness, Ja'far found himself swimming in pitch black. There was a sudden rush of wind that almost blew him off his feet. Soon, he found himself in an isolated city. The buildings were all old and broken down, with a rusty odour filling the air. There was the pungent metallic smell of dead bodies unpleasantly wafting about through the dusty air, which made the dreamer cough and splutter. Jeez, how dirty is this air?

As he curiously began to walk forward, shadows suddenly began to appear beside him, just on the rocks. The black balls drifted about before fusing together to form vague figures of human bodies. Stepping forward to the one nearest to him, he saw a familiar face.

Sinbad.

His face was marred with cuts, and heavily soaked in blood. It seemed that he had taken a brutal beating from whoever killed him, judging from the bruises that had surfaced on his flawless tan skin. His silken pearl white robes that he had seen just a while ago had now been shredded into pieces, revealing many parts of his bare body. It was a grotesque sight. But what made the entire situation worse was that in the centre of his chest was an unbelievable yet hurting fact.

Ja'far's household vessel.

"My... household vessel... killed Sin...?" The advisor could not believe his eyes. The metallic spear component of his vessel had plunged straight into the king's chest, and struck the heart itself. Falling to his knees, Ja'far covered his face with his sticky hands, crying out loud in sheer terror. Somehow... they were densely dripping with blood.

"You should have done your mission long ago, little stream..." a voice called out, its gentleness yet intimidating tone ringing in the ex-assassin's ears. He stood up and swivelled around, only to find nothing in sight. He knew this voice anywhere.

A not-so-confident smirk formed on his lips. "What about you, Furtif? What have you done?"

"At least I did not leave our leader's side... unlike you, stream..." Through the dust, a dark silhouette took shape. Before long, a person stepped out of the orange-like mist. This mysterious stranger looked about thirty years old. He had flaming red hair that shot out from every angle, making his entire head of hair seem like a spiky bush with long locks trailing behind his back. Unlike Ja'far, he had really tanned skin, like Sinbad. His arms were donned with gold and silver bracelets with diamonds studded onto them, along with matching shining rings. He was wearing a brand new-looking white shirt, with ruffles on the collar, just like an Englishman. However his pants were baggy, those typical ones you see in the Arabic culture. Just above his shirt was a tattered sleeveless jacket, full of holes everywhere. Glaring with blazing ruby eyes, the stranger then stopped in his tracks, standing just before the well-dressed advisor.

"I see you have been well, brother Ghadir," he continued as he teached out to pat Ja'far on the shoulder. The latter shuddered at hearing his own original name; it was totally traumatising, in terms of the fragments of his past. He stared at the taller figure.

"My exact sentiments, Furtif," the advisor replied stoically.

"Brother Ghadir," the red-haired person now knows as Furtif started with a trembling voice of uneasiness. "Why did you leave us? You were supposed to kill Sinbad the dungeon capturer!"

"..."

"And now look what you've did!" he yelled so loudly that his voice could be heard from miles, which made the ex-assassin jump out of his skin. "Now not only Sinbad gets his own fame and fortune as the king of Sindria, you have also been tainted! What..." His voice finally died down. "What... happened to you, brother? He was supposed to be dead!"

"... I... No..." Before asking, Ja'far interrupted his own thoughts about that bloody sight of murdered Sinbad. "Furtif, what... what happened to Sin... bad? Like, that image of him dead." He turned around and pointed at the corpse of royalty. "Look, that!"

"Oh, that. Well," the taller male shrugged. "You were the one who killed him."

"What?"

"No, no, he's not dead now, but he will be, in the future. I suggest you listen to me and kill him now, for the sake of the pride of our troupe!"

"I can't do that!" Ja'far yelled out, taking Furtif by surprise. Once the advisor had calmed down, he panted heavily in slight exhaustion. That last shout was quite loud...

"I... I can't..."

He fell onto his knees, his head lowered, hiding his tearful face from the stranger assassin. "I... I can't kill Sin... I just can't..." he sobbed softly in that trembling voice of his. "I-is there another way... to make... Leader... contented?"

"... I have no idea," the long-haired assassin muttered. "But as your sworn brother from the past, I will tell you this; Leader will definitely make a sacrifice out of you." When Ja'far didn't reply, he sighed. "Brother Ghadir, it basically means that you have two choices: either finish your mission and assassinate King Sinbad, or you get captured, and tortured. What will you choose?"

"I... I don't know..."

"Hm..."

"Just... let me think about it..." the advisor replied in a hushed whisper as he slowly stood up, brushing the dust off his robes. "I will give you... the answer... in due course."

The visitor then smiled. "I'm here to just warn you about the things. These events are inevitable, so do watch out..."

"Brother."

In a flash, the silhouette faded into nothing.

Ja'far sniffled as he stared emotionlessly at the ground. What should he do? Should he kill Sinbad or sacrifice himself? It was such a hard choice. He glanced at his pale hands, that were now mysteriously covered in crimson blood. When did it get there?

Little did he realise, his keffiyeh was not with him all along.

* * *

Pale eyelids fluttering open to greet the sunshine, Ja'far stifled a yawn as he woke up to face a snoring Sinbad. Taking this chance to debate over things, he began to get lost in his thoughts.

Was that all just a dream? Or could it be...

... a vision of the future?

It could be. Furtif, for as long as he knew, had long passed away when he was around eight due to a severe epidemic that was spread all over the village of Shamrashu. Ja'far and Furtif were the only ones in the assassination troupe who were infected. The doctors, at that only time, only had one antidote left, and the scarlet-eyed child had pleaded the nurse to give the antidote to Ja'far since he was in a more serious condition than him.

His mind wandered off to somewhere else. Ghadir... How could that assassin Furtif remember his original name, when he was dead for about sixteen years already?

Ghadir was his original name, and the name Ja'far went by during his days as an assassin. Travelling down tje streams by boat, many people called him the "Child of the Stream Curse", since he was an assassin, after all. He had to face tortures and punishment under this very name as well. It was not as if these horrible memories of his disgusting assassin past could be easily erased, but...

Until he met Sinbad.

Snapping out of his reverie, Ja'far shook his head to find the king, now awake and smiling at him with a small grin. Blushing, the advisor hid himself under the covers, avoiding Sinbad's alluring gaze. Nevertheless, the dungeon capturer pulled everything, blanket and Ja'far, into his bare arms, causing a tight embrace to happen.

"Good morning," he said cheerily as he pushed the covers away, revealing a pink face. Smirking frivolously, he closed the gap between them and lightly pressed his lips against the embarrassed advisor's. While Sinbad was squeezing poor Ja'far, naked and covered with a blanket, in his grasp, the advisor, on the other hand, already had his mind occupied with worries.

Knowing that the leader of the assassination troupe was always snarling at everyone he met everyday, and always gave torturing sessions under a spiked whip, the ex-assassin felt worry piercing his heart. This particular leader would go on a rampage and go on a killing spree like a war.

_I don't want the country to get killed..._

_But then, I don't want Sin to get hurt because of me..._

... What should I do?

* * *

End of Chapter 1

* * *

**End note: Blimey... Things are short cos' my writing just... sucks lol.**

**As Ja'far's name literally means 'stream' in Arabic, I gave him another name that he used in the past: Ghadir, which also means 'stream'. 'Furtif' literally means 'stealth' in French.**

**Anyways! I hope that you have enjoyed this start of a new story! I will try to continue writing the chapters as fast as I can and at the same time, improve in my writing skills!:)) If you have liked this chapter, please favourite and review as they actually help me to keep on going!~ thanks a bunch everyone! Love you for showing your support!:D**

**Thanks, and I'll see you next time!~ *hearts***

**Psst! Remember the full version is on my livejournal! :]**


End file.
